


Boy Toy; You're My Boy Toy

by ViciousInnocence (orphan_account)



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Body Worship, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, Dennis Reynolds is a slut pass it on, Drunk Sex, M/M, Pre-Season/Series 10, Religion Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 21:14:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6167041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ViciousInnocence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's for men. It's a visual stimulant, bro. I'm not wearing this cause it's comfortable, I'm wearing it because I want to turn you on. Get it?"</p><p>Sometimes Dennis wishes he made better life decisions; but then he'll finish three bottles of wine, put on "I'm-getting-dick" panties, grab his BFF and just get on with his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boy Toy; You're My Boy Toy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dacmennis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dacmennis/gifts).



> For the fab dacmennis who encourages me to embrace my inner pervert.

“Dennis, for god’s sake what the hell? All the neighbour’s are in the hall complaining about the noise! You can’t just play Bryan Adams whenever you god damn feel like it, other people want to sleep,” Mac snaps angrily, storming into the apartment, he’s had a busy day out with Charlie and is not in the mood for further irritation. The first thing he spots is the stereo remote on the coffee table, so he dashes over to turn it off.

When he picks up the remote, he turns to press the button at the stereo, but is completely distracted by the sight of Dennis before him.

Mac feels his mouth drop open and his jaw become slack in disbelief at the sight before him, completely forgetting about any former thoughts. Dennis is dancing to the loud beat of _Run To You_ blasting through their flat, snaking his hips exactly how he dances to all his 80s music, with that hypnotic sway that always has Mac mesmerized. Only this time he’s not wearing some horrific spandex creation, this time he’s wearing a mother-fucking white negligee, with bare shaved legs and seven inch platform heels; the kind he’s frequently seen at strip clubs.

He has his back to the apartment door and the music is so loud, he probably didn’t even hear Mac come in. Mac knows he should probably do something, probably shouldn’t just be stood in the center of the room, with his arm limply pointing towards the stereo, slowly getting a boner. But he finds himself powerless to do anything but, finding himself sickeningly enjoying the show, despite his better judgement.

Eventually he shakes his head out of his reverie, noticing the air stinks of red wine. He looks around the apartment, noting two empty bottles at the kitchen counter, another half-full one in Dennis’ hand as he turns around. As soon as their eyes lock together, they both seem to feel the electric tension of the room instantly setting in between them. Initially Dennis’ eyes appear shocked like a deer in the headlights, but quickly they change into the eyes of the lion who has just sighted his prey. Mac feels his skin crawl on his back with a sense of foreboding; he knew that look, Dennis had fucking planned this.

They stand awkwardly for a few more seconds before Mac finds the droning of Dennis’ terrible music becoming too irritating. He taps the power button on the remote, before throwing it backwards onto the sofa. He instantly regrets this as the new silence makes the atmosphere even more awkward, and Dennis just seems to raise an eyebrow as if saying; ‘ _Your move.’_ Unable to take the sexual tension Mac breaks the ice.

"Where did you get those shoes?" Mac squeaks, referring the the platform high heels strapped to Dennis' pedicured feet, not even wanting to know how Dennis can move around in them so easily.  
  
Dennis shrugs, feeling himself sway a little, knocking back the bottle of wine in his hand, savouring the sickeningly rich flavor on his tongue.  
  
"Don't know- I've just had them forever," he slurs, washing down the wine in his mouth, a sinful smile gracing his features and Mac shifts his weight awkwardly onto the other foot.  
  
"...never seen them before" he mumbles, forcing himself to look away round the room as if the windows were suddenly fascinating. Dennis feels a twitch of irritation at his response.  
  
"Fine," he growls out, drinking down a final few mouthfuls of wine, slamming it onto the table,  
  
"I bought them for you." He lies. Though it's technically true; he bought them for himself. But their secondary purpose was in the hopes of luring Mac into his bedroom, so really they are both benefitting from this.  
  
He sees Mac freeze up a little, visibly watching his heart stop. Mac turns to look at Dennis, flushed face and a wary expression.  
  
"Why?" He asks suspiciously, though the edge of panic in his voice tells Dennis he knows exactly why.  
  
"Because…you think my legs look _good_ in heels," Dennis purrs. Mac's never actually said that, or seen Dennis in platforms, but that doesn't make it any less true.  
  
He waits for Mac's eyes to automatically wander down his polished figure, over the white dress hanging on his hips. He lets out a breath of air in satisfaction, shifting his weight a little to angle his legs better for his audience.  
  
"Don't you, Mac?" He taunts, reaching over for the wine bottle, wrapping his fingers round the neck and holding on loosely. Dennis knows how he's right, how his feminine thighs and calves are accentuated by the lift of the heels. With the extra height, his ivory legs go on for miles, like a road straight up to heaven. He could put swim-models to shame; he knows he looks amazing. Mac's blush has spread down his neck and Dennis strokes the shaft of the wine bottle, thoughtfully and a little bit drunk, trying to work out his next move. He’s enjoying watching Mac squirm though, he decides this can go on a bit longer.

“Do you like my dress?” Dennis says, with as much subtly as a horny schoolgirl, lifting the lower hem of his negligee a little at the side. He holds it for a split second then lets go, feeling the sleek material flit across his waist, the material swaying high enough to reveal his underwear.

“Jesus Christ, Dennis,” Mac curses and looks away, his hands coming up behind his head, holding them there in that familiar stretch he pulls when he’s suffering from internal shock and indecision. Dennis can sense he’s halfway between a loud ‘no-homo’ speech and fleeing.

“How much have you had to drink?” Mac asks in disbelief, clearly beginning to fall into his usual internal panic. Beginning to bargain with himself; trying to create an excuse for themselves.

“Not nearly enough,” Dennis replies running his tongue over his lips to taste the sweet remnants of the red wine, he feels the pleasant buzz of alcohol spurring him on more, he’s not going to give Mac any more room for his self-negotiation tactics.

“Wanna get off with me?” he suggests crudely, thoroughly enjoying how Mac abruptly bristles and clenches his fists, desperately trying to gain back some form of imaginary lost ground. Dennis takes this opportunity to slink closer, heels clicking on the ground, the sway of his hips slowly drawing Mac’s attention.

“I got all dolled up, just for you,” he promises, advertising his flawless form with the gesture of his hand; watching Mac’s guards tumbling away easily behind their closed doors.

“Dennis, I can’t, I want-,” he protests, stumbling over his words, his tongue fighting his conscience, he could never say no to Dennis. A dangerous glint, in their dim apartment, shines in Dennis’ drunk eyes; reminding Mac it wasn’t a wise decision to say no either.

“Y-you’re stressing me out with your weird femme-shit,” Mac shouts loudly, correcting his words, as if the volume of his voice will make his semi go away. Dennis watches his friend rub the back of his head in irritation, shamelessly not bothering with subtly as his eyes glide up and down the other’s long legs. As amusing as Dennis finds this whole song-and-dance, sometimes he wonders if it serves any real purpose.

“Calm down Mac,” Dennis snorts, bored with this monotonous conversation, casually drinking down more wine. He watches Mac swallow down an empty mouthful, gaze flicking for a split second to Dennis’ long elegant fingertips as he drums them teasingly on his creamy thighs.

“Why the fuck are you wearing women’s underwear?” Mac blurts out, even as his eyes betray him by straying below the others waistline.

“You mean the lace around my dick?” Dennis asks, before dropping his voice into a sultry key at the way Mac freezes up,

“Looking at my underwear, Mac? You’re filthy, such a filthy pervert.” He utters under his breath, his lips curl up menacingly, playing the tease. Before raising the bottle of red wine and locking his lips round the rim, feeling Mac’s eyes on his mouth spurs him on.

“You know exactly what you’re doing,” Mac snaps suddenly, feeling himself burning up much to his embarrassment, eyebrows knitted together on his forehead.

“Dressing like a girl, it messes with my head,” Mac accuses, red-faced, trying to develop further excuses for his boner, which at this point is becoming obvious through his jeans. Mac tracks Dennis’ line of sight, instantly taking steps rapidly towards Dennis, in an attempt to avoid discussion of the situation in his pants.

“For God’s sake stop drinking!” he panics, trying to snatch the bottle from Dennis, who inches back a little and holds the bottle overhead. Embarrassingly Mac finds he can’t reach, much to the others amusement.

“Why? Scared I’ll jump you?” Dennis taunts, holding the bottle higher, watching Mac give up on flailing his arms about like a small child. Dennis found himself getting off on how he towered inches over Mac, like a Golden God trapping his human plaything. His eyes darken sadistically as he leans down eye-to-eye with Mac, the other leaning back, intimidated.

“Or are you worried you won’t be able to control yourself?” he grits out in a low key so filthy it makes Dennis’ own hairs stand up on the back of his neck. He reaches down to Mac with his free hand, slipping his hand smoothly over his hips, before Mac’s hitting away the grabbing hand, while simultaneously jumping back from Dennis.

“You-you,” Mac shakes his head a little, clenching his fists.

“You’re going straight to hell,” he snaps, pointing the finger, cheeks burning, before turning and retreating to his room, needing to make some kind of physical and verbal statement before God, since his body was clearly betraying him.

The door slams shut and echoes round the empty apartment. Dennis stands in the silence for a moment, feeling himself sway a little again, he ignores the obvious sign and Mac’s warning, taking another large gulp of the wine before discarding it for good on their kitchen counter.

If hell really does exist there’s no doubt that’s where he’s going to burn happily for all eternity.

He smooths down the crushed velvet and sheer silk of his white dress, running his hands up over his narrow waistline. Under the haze of alcohol he pretends the hands he can feel are Mac’s, he shuts his eyes, smiling to himself. The pads of his fingers trace over his nipples, scratching them with blunt nails through the thin fabric, breathing out, he bites his lip a little. It’s not long to wait now, he’s so close to getting what he wants. Dennis’ eyes lazily roll open again, his vision a little blurred and he brings his hands back down the side of his body, unable to stop feeling himself under the soft fabric. He feels like a god, so irresistible even to his own touch, deserving to have his body worshipped all night. Mac can repent in the morning; that’s the beautiful fortune of sinning, forgiveness leaves room for repetition.

While Mac had run off and slammed the door to his room; he hadn’t locked it or left the apartment either. Almost a full retreat but not an escape, it’s an invitation and Dennis has waited politely to make an entrance.  He leans off the side, elegantly stalking over to Mac’s bedroom door.

Dennis pushes into Mac’s room, completely unsurprised to see him knelt in front of his crucifix, eulogies falling from his lips as he prays to a God that had probably long since abandoned him. But whatever. Dennis doesn’t really care; from his perspective, he’s totally down for whatever convinces Mac to let him sit on his face.

Mac must have heard him approaching clear as day with the loud clicking of his heels, but even now as he stalks closer to the small kneeling figure of his friend, he doesn’t acknowledge his presence. Dennis can practically feel the sexual tension building with every loud smack of his heels on Mac’s hard wood floor, like a countdown. He can feel heat beginning to pool below his stomach as he gets closer, it had been so long since Mac had fucked him. Handies and blow-jobs in-between don’t satisfy the empty cavity inside him, that he constantly needs to fill with _something_. He slowly kneels down, long limbs folded over as he traps the others body between his thighs, pressing his semi up against the small of his friends back, showing Mac his intentions.

He notes Mac’s breathing hitches, but he keeps murmuring under his breath. He ignores Dennis even as the other brings his hands around the others front, wandering the flat planes of his chest through his shirt. Dennis leans closer, nuzzling his face into the side of Mac’s neck, inhaling his comforting scent of beer and faint cologne from a day at the bar.

He holds himself there, his head swimming a little, he listens to Mac’s prayers, slowly he finds them more arousing. It’s not the content, it’s the soft whispers of his friends voice. Dennis lusts after his devotion, chases the parasitic pleasure of eating Mac up from the inside and out; consuming every fiber of his being. His drunk mind rushes and he feels himself pulsate with want.

"Stop talking to them, baby,” Dennis breathes softly, pressing kisses onto the others neck, savouring the taste of Mac’s clean shaven skin.

“Talk to me,“ he whispers near the other’s ear, reaching up with one of his hands to pull at the collar of Mac’s shirt, revealing his freckled shoulder. His friend only speaks louder, praying to Jesus and Mary, whoever will listen. But he still shivers when Dennis places kisses along the others collarbone, mapping out the pretty freckles from many times before on Mac’s flesh.

Dennis notes that while Mac does not react, he does nothing to resist him and experimentally snakes his right hand lower into Mac’s jeans. Far too drunk and way too horny, Dennis can’t stop his filthy thoughts leaking from his mouth.

“You can have me on my knees,” Dennis murmurs, feeling Mac’s pulse jump under his lips at his jugular.

“tie me up,” he continues, forcing his hand below Mac’s belt, feeling a rush of teenage excitement at the fact Mac was going commando today. He took hold of his friend’s flushed dick with joy at the fact it already throbbed and pulsed in his hand.

“spank me,” Dennis emphasizes his words with a subtle squeeze on the others cock, lusting after the way Mac’s words slur together at that moment before he hurriedly continues his prayer.

“I don’t care; whatever else you want,” Dennis says, leaning in close to Mac’s ear, teasing the shell between his teeth.

“I just need you to fuck me,” he begs, as Mac finishes his ritual, his dick flushing with heat.

“You could have at least let me finish,” Mac chokes out, his hand wrapping round Dennis’ wrist, removing the hand from his jeans. Dennis feels adrenaline rushing through him as he recognizes Mac finally responding to him.

“I need you so bad,” his voice buzzes with anticipation as he leans up onto his knees, crawling round the front of his friend to straddle his lap, his dress riding up his on his lower limbs.

“I know,” Mac allows himself a brief smile in satisfaction from the other‘s pleas for attention. Mac’s hands finally make contact with the smooth flesh that’s been begging to be stroked, his fingers pushing upwards, underneath Dennis’ dress. The formers breath hitches in his throat, his skin grown sensitive from a lack of foreign touch, he drapes his arms delicately on the others wide shoulders, loosely linking fingers behind his neck.

“Did you shave, for me?” Mac breathes tentatively, his eyes glancing down to the hairless toned thighs encasing him, his hands pushing higher still, bordering in the space by the others hips.

“Yeah,” Dennis lies again,

“For you,” he promises, the touch of Mac’s fingers reaching the sides of his underwear, as Dennis catches the man himself peeking under his skirt.

“Can I take them off?” Mac says softly, blinking up at Dennis with pupils blown wide, asking permission even as he gently lifts the lace material beneath his touch. Dennis feels himself smirk in satisfaction, lifting his ass a little to make the panties easier to remove, he leans forward again, inches becoming centimeters between them.

“I thought I told you,” Dennis murmurs, tilting his head slightly so their noses don’t bump together as he presses a soft kiss onto the others parted lips.

“I’m all yours,” he finishes, pulling back a little to see the look on Mac’s face. Dennis feels the lace being pulled away from his dick, repressing a shiver as air breathes over his most intimate parts. There’s a brief pause as they both soak in the delicious tension, then the next thing he knows is that Mac has closed the distance between them and they’re softly pressing lips against each other. Dennis has never been one for kissing, but there’s something about the way Mac sucks gently on his fleshy lower lip and how his tongue seems to meld perfectly into his own mouth. It makes him feel so alive, so grounded and electric in his own skin. He can taste the rich tang of wine mingling with Mac’s own addictive flavor.

In a rush of excitement, and a blur of alcohol in his mind, he slowly pushes Mac down by his shoulders, back against the floor. Dennis can feel the skimpy underwear being slid down his smooth legs, the pads of Mac’s fingers teasing against his skin on their journey. Mac’s hands stop short after his thighs, pushing his underwear as far as he can reach. Dennis feels himself smiling into their kiss as he feels the erogenous zone on the reverse of his knees being tickled with teasing circles, glowing happily with the knowledge Mac knew exactly how to touch him. He pulls away reluctantly to see his friend’s blissed out face, Mac’s big brown eyes and bashful smile. Mac’s eyes trace over Dennis’ perfected features, closer up he can see the detail highlighted by a thin layer of precisely applied makeup and red stains on his inner lips from the wine. Dennis lets his friend trace a finger up his jaw and twist loosely round the curl of hair hanging on his forehead, eating up the lax worship.

“Thought I was the one in control tonight?” Mac breathes out, in reference to their position on the floor, as he quirks an eyebrow curiously. Dennis resists the urge he has to laugh as he capriciously feels himself becoming light-headed with drunken giddiness.

“Come on then,” he taunts, sensing Mac’s hand slip away from his hair, gliding down his long neck to rest on the juncture.

“Show me why you’re such a badass,” Dennis’ sultry voice purrs, wriggling his clothed hips playfully against Mac’s own, enjoying how his friend’s eyes cloud over a little with want.

He resists making any more sound than a skittish gasp, as Mac suddenly flips their bodies, rolling to reverse their positions so fast Dennis feels his world drunkenly spinning. Mac’s dimly lit room whirls above him as he feels the man biting a rough path down his neck, feeling himself squirm in delight, throwing his hands up near his head. As Mac reaches his collar bone, Dennis feels him marking his skin with pretty bruises. He allows Mac to hear him whine a little, bringing his left hand to his own lips and biting on the length of his finger gleefully. He shuts his eyes, sharpening his focus on the perfected sensation of his blood brothers hands, licking against his finger as Mac reaches his chest. He sighs out around his own flesh, his dick throbbing with the sensation of Mac’s blunt nails scraping against his pecs, scratching his nipple to arousal just as he had touched himself before.

“Don’t stop,” he moans out in encouragement, unable to stop himself, too heavily under influence of wine with the soft waves of pleasure spreading down from his pecs. His words seem to fuel Mac’s determination as his strong hands stroke down his sides, feeling his figure through the velvet dress, while teeth grip what he can only imagine to be a particularly large love bite. Dennis bucks his hips instinctively, as he feels Mac shift south on top of him. Fingers wrap round as much of Dennis’ thighs as they can hold. Mac squeezes the gorgeous ivory flesh under his palms while Dennis’ glazed eyes focus blindly on the ceiling.

“You really do have great thighs,” Mac mumbles in fascination, and that’s as close he’s going to get sober, to admitting that particular part of Dennis’ anatomy is one of his biggest turn-ons. It doesn’t really matter, Dennis greedily soaks up the praise, completely aware of the underlying secret. Maybe some other day he’ll convince Mac to fuck his thighs, just to see how fast he can make him come.

“Oh yeah? Why don't you turn them red?” Dennis hears his own voice out loud, semi-accidental. He decides to roll with it.

"Hit me."

He swears he could hear a groan caught in the other’s throat as Mac slowly rubs the length of Dennis’ soft moisturized legs, savoring the texture and committing it to memory, before he pulls one hand away and spreads them with the other - bringing his palm down _hard_. 

The shout Dennis gives out is more like a girl shrieking in a porno and as Mac leans down to kiss the swelling flesh on his inner thighs, he decides he needs to hear it again.

Mac’s hands slide down over his knees, slipping the lace underwear over pale shins and off over the platform heels. He curiously inspects the white garments before flinging them over his shoulder, before he can get too distracted. Dennis hears Mac suddenly get up and he panics a little, feeling himself frown and slowly sit up on his elbows.

“Where are you going?” he asks urgently, now able to see Mac rooting through his drawers, objects clicking against each other inside the furniture under Mac’s rummaging hands.

“Lube,” Mac states bluntly, pausing in his search out of irritation. Dennis senses his friends thoughts,

“Top drawer of my night-stand,” he instructs, knowing Mac’s supplies were awful, he sits up further to lean against the bed, bringing his knees up to his chest.

“Get condoms while you’re there,” he quickly remembers, feeling his dick throb a little at the thought, knowing his dress had ridden up as Mac turned to leave the room, eyes noticing Dennis’ exposed flesh, muttering out a cuss as he hurried out of door. Dennis lets out a small breath of joy at his friend’s eagerness, lazily reaching down to stroke himself, teasing along his own length with gentle fingers playfully. He hears his night-stand drawers snapping shut and Mac’s footsteps returning.

Dennis feels no shame in being found like this as his friend returns, he ignores the wild flash in Mac’s eyes from seeing Dennis masturbate, instead letting his gaze flit down to the noticeable tent in Mac’s blue jeans. Instantly Mac becomes a little uncomfortable, noticing Dennis staring hungrily between his legs like an animal, he quickly throws the items in his hand onto his mattress.

“Get on the bed,” he instructs lamely, unsuccessful in attempting to break Dennis out of his current activity; only giving Mac a small grunt in response. Mac feels a vein pulse in his forehead,

“If you want to get fucked; get on the bed,” he snaps angrily, his trademark bossiness flaring up inside him, feeling satisfied with the way Dennis jumps at the sudden volume before being able to mask it with a dirty look as he begins to stand up. Mac feels himself swell with power, he does love telling Dennis what to do. He also loves the sight of Dennis crawling onto his mattress, his friends back elegantly arched low to stick out his tiny ass. Mac groans a little in satisfaction, thanking the Lord for making Dennis so perfect in every way, as he hurriedly rips his sleeveless t-shirt off overhead before making a start on his jeans.

Dennis flops down onto his back again, once more propping himself onto his elbows to look back at his friend urgently stripping. He allows this time to be spent drinking in the image of his friends naked form. Dennis decides he’s god damn lucky sharing a flat with such a gorgeous man, eternally grateful that Mac had grown taller and filled out his muscles since they first kissed as teenagers. Unlike Charlie, Mac had bulked out nicely.

He feels his mouth slip open a little as Mac steps out of his jeans. Dennis has never become sick of seeing Mac stripped completely bare before him, he wishes he still had wine to accompany the view as Mac stalks closer, relishing in the idolizing look directed at his bare flesh. Dennis finds himself transfixed with the large red head of Mac’s cock protruding from a mass of black wiry hairs and thick balls. While Mac’s not the biggest he’s ever fucked, he’s definitely far from the smallest either. Mac can’t help but swell with pride at Dennis practically salivating at the sight of him. He can't complain either; if he wasn't already hard for Dennis, seeing him lounging on his bed with bruising inner thighs, wearing nothing but a pair of heels and a dress - that would have done it. Mac approaches the bed and grabs Dennis by his left ankle. He drags him roughly down the bed, enjoying the surprised squawk Mac climbs on top of him, smirking down proudly, feeling the cheap mattress dipping with their combined weight.

“Slut,” he breathes over Dennis, never being amazing at dirty talk, which is perfectly fine as Dennis takes everything he can get.

Dennis replies by keenly leaning up to capture Mac’s lips in another heady kiss, arms around his neck. As Mac shifts to gain better access to Dennis’ mouth, their bare cocks brush together, causing them to breathe into each other’s lungs. Soon having to break for air, slowly pulling apart with a string of saliva connected between them before it snaps against Dennis’ cheek.

Mac traces down to Dennis’ chest rising in slow rhythm, he sinks south again, hooking Dennis’ right leg over his shoulder and taking the left heel in his hand. Dennis watches Mac place kisses to his toes strapped under the cheap plastic, sucking them into his mouth briefly before making his way back up the calf muscle. He’s so transfixed with the display of worship, he barely realises Mac is talking to him.

“What?” Dennis breathes, recognising he is a lot more drunk than initially thought.

“You taste so good,” Mac repeats himself, nipping towards his waist now, teeth clamping down around a mouthful of sore inner fleshy thigh as if he was greedily going to take a bite clean out. Instead he marks it, Dennis feeling his veins blistering again, blood rising to the surface. He blinks his eyes lazily, the sight making him weak and his legs fall heavy in Mac’s grip.

“Make it hurt,” he whispers, causing Mac to bite down hard enough to wound, Dennis whines in satisfaction reaching to stroke himself but having his hand smacked away, as Mac’s nose nuzzles against his dick, inhaling his scent through his nostrils.

“Take your clothes off,” being whispered on the exhale as he licks small strips, on and around the base of Dennis’ cock. Dennis frowns a little, weak arms struggling to remove his dress quickly thanks to Mac hungrily tonguing him like candy. He manages to pull it off over his head, limply throwing it onto the pillows. Feeling Mac’s wet muscle rubbing a large vein on the underside of his dick makes him wind his hand down to hold onto Macs, thick fingers digging into the hollow of Dennis’ hipbone.

At some point Mac must have uncapped the lube, as Dennis feels himself flinch at the cold intrusion of two digits, slipping inside him, slowly pressing up to the knuckle. However Dennis quickly finds himself pushing back onto the invading objects as Mac begins to finger him gently.

“More,” he begs unashamed, eating up the sensation of finally being penetrated. Mac blinks in amazement, easily adding a third finger, scissoring them outward. Dennis gasps out, clamping around the digits, chasing the delicate sting of pain and the feeling of Mac’s mouth travelling up the length of his cock.

Feeling Dennis rocking his hips eagerly against his hand, Mac jams his long fingers in further, curling them into the walls of his body, manipulating Dennis’ shuddering movements. His soft lips travel to the slit of Dennis’ oozing length, stubble scratching up teasingly on the hypersensitive skin. Mac kisses the head, flicking his tongue over the tip, sucking Dennis gently into his mouth but never swallowing him down.

Dennis feels his brain short-circuit at Mac’s ministrations, letting out a strangled sound, hand grasping at Mac’s fingers holding his hips; the other pulling on Mac’s thin duvet. Mac knew exactly how to work him with his fingers, where to push and just what to grab to drive Dennis crazy.

“M-Mac I can’t-,” he swallows, unable to finish his sentence, Mac’s thumb tracing circles above the dip in his hipbone. Dennis winces a little under the pressure, forcing himself to withhold orgasm until it was drawn uncontrollably out of him. Mac pulls away from his occupation to take in the sight of Dennis breaking out in a sweat with his effort to take Mac’s hand even deeper. He feels himself flush with heat at the display.

“God, Den,” he mumbles, the taste of his friend still on his lips as he licks it off. He feels Dennis’ warm cushioned muscles underneath his fingers, anticipating the sensation of them cramping around his cock. Dark brown eyes greedily drink of the sight of his friend’s naked body, Dennis’ chest shallowly heaving and thick thighs strained and trembling with tension. Yet Dennis keeps rolling his hips insistently against him, with a lazy languid rhythm.

Mac feels like the luckiest man in the world. He reluctantly removes his fingers from Dennis, stretching them out after being confined inside him.

“Roll over,” he orders and Dennis makes a small sound of complaint, slowly picking himself up and turning over onto his hands and knees. Mac impatiently watches him moving, feeling a sting of irritation and excitement as Dennis’ ass is put out before him. Mac doesn’t even think, hit with a perverse wave of giddiness, his hand automatically lashes out and spanks Dennis hard with a flat palm.

“AH!” Dennis cries out, falling forward onto his elbows in combination of shock and due force, his ass stinging from the impact. The sound is like music to Mac’s ears and his hand strikes twice, the intense smacking sound of skin on skin piercing the quiet room. This time Dennis manages to bite his lip, eyes tightly shut, silently aroused beyond belief, on his knees and elbows.

Mac buzzes, a little power-crazed, that second hit definitely had to hurt. He admires the red hand-print beginning to blossom on Dennis’ flesh, as he leans back to grab blindly for the lube, rolling his eyes when his hand brushes the wrapper of a condom. Dennis doesn’t have to know. He hurriedly spreads a dose of the liquid onto himself, giving a few pulls to heighten his arousal as his eyes roam down the outline of the other’s perfectly poised body shifting in front of him. 

Mac quickly repositions himself behind Dennis, leaning down to press a kiss to the dip in his spine, licking off a small line of salty perspiration from the centre of his back.

“You ready?” he breathes against the other’s skin, as Dennis nods, pushing back against his friend and grinding his hips for emphasis. Mac hisses from the contact, hands instantly flying to clutch Dennis’ hips to stop him from doing that.

Eying up his near perfect view, Mac instantly regrets this position when he realises he won’t be able to see the twisted look of pleasure of Dennis’ face, when he finally fucks him. But Dennis would kill him if he forced him to switch now, so he lines his dick up with Dennis’ puckered hole. Mac wasn’t sure he ever prepped Dennis enough for this, but neither of them ever complained. With that thought in mind Mac eases into his friend slowly, sheathing Dennis over his tip, watching himself disappear inside with lecherous satisfaction.

Dennis continues to bite his lip, clutching tightly at the bedsheets in his hands. It hurt, of course it did, Mac was thicker than his fingers and Dennis could feel his dick tearing him a little. But Dennis would never do this if it was going to be anything otherwise, the pain secured him in the moment. He trusted Mac.

“C’mon,” Dennis pleads, pushing himself back weakly, forcing half an inch of Mac deeper into his body while Mac’s grip intensified as a consequence. Unable to hold back any longer, Mac snaps his hips forward, burying himself inside Dennis beneath him. He gasps out at the sensation of being gripped tightly by the hot muscles of Dennis’ ass, while his friend curses at the sudden rupture of his body. He waits a few moments, shallowly breathing, with his cock throbbing against Dennis’ insides, letting his friend adjust to his size. Mac watches the other's head slowly turn and shoot him an impossibly wrecked look over his shoulder, their eyes making heated contact.

“What are you waiting for?” Dennis purrs, stretching his legs further apart on the sheets, the wild lust in his blue eyes destroying any need of restraint Mac had thought necessary. Brown eyes blearily watch the other drunkenly smile and roll his body in teasing waves against him.

“Dennis,” Mac lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, moving his left hand to hold onto the other’s waistline. Even as he pulls out slowly, he can feel the impending orgasm twitching inside him, he knows he won’t be able to last long. Though the taste of pre-cum on his lips tells him Dennis won't either.

With that thought, he slams himself deep back into his friend, moving Dennis further up the bed with a deep moan, before moving out again, starting up a punishing rhythm feeling the bed begin to shake under them. If Mac didn’t know how much Dennis loved it he would have felt bad for the way his cock is roughly screwing him. It takes a while for Dennis to succumb to the pain and let it turn into the pleasure of being fucked raw open. He winds his forearms tighter into the sheets with his hands, panting out hot air. Until stars flash behind his eyes when he feels Mac’s tip press into the bundle of nerves deep inside him.

“Ah! Yeah, Mac!” Dennis mewls, his weight falling harder on his shoulders as he presses up urgently to Mac’s body. Mac swells with pride at making his friend fall apart, reaching underneath Dennis to claw blunt nails down his chest, making a line for his dick.

The sudden keening noises and moans leaving Dennis’ throat, are intensified and deafening in the silence of their apartment. Mac is powerless to stop himself from aiming at that sweet spot, desperate to hear more. The headboard on Mac's bed bangs loudly against the wall, amidst the noise of skin slapping together and Dennis practically screaming for Mac to go harder. He grips Dennis in his palm, jerking his length messily, not wanting to ruin the angle that’s driving them both crazy. It's a gift to see Dennis quaking below him from every hard thrust of his hips into the others bent frame. Mac can tell Dennis is about to come as he becomes a little heavier to hold up, his skinny arms falling weak to the sensation and his words slur together. Mac can only make out his own name, he replies with _Dennis_.

Unable to stop himself, with his drunk vision blurring before him and every nerve of his body alight, Dennis orgasms hard, jizz spraying onto Mac’s hand and the bedsheets. Mac only lasts a minute longer, after feeling Dennis’ body become limp under him, cruelly holding onto the others dick; lusting after the way his friend was slowly getting hard again from being fucked so rough. The realisation sends Mac over the edge and he shoots his load into Dennis, the other man flinching while Mac slowly rides out his orgasm.

Eventually Mac pulls out, grabbing Dennis round the waist and pulling them down to lie in an embrace.

He spoons Dennis’ body tightly against his own in the afterglow, always spellbound by the euphoric feeling post-coitus. He snuggles his nose into the back of Dennis’ hair by his ear, pleased to find it slightly damp with sweat. His tongue flicks out to savour the taste, pulling a soft curl of Dennis’ hair between his lips. He feels Dennis sigh and his legs pushing back and weaving between his, the hard plastic of his heels becoming quickly apparent again. His own hairy legs rub up against the soft velvety feel of Dennis', honestly Mac didn't think he cared for shaved legs, but he now realises that might just be on women.

Mac was not going to say it but Dennis’ legs _did_ look good in platforms. The image flashes before his eyes again, remembering how Dennis had towered over him. Honestly in that moment he’d thought Dennis looked ready to tie him up like some evil dominatrix, he was only half put out that hadn’t happened because he’d thoroughly enjoyed the alternative. His only regret is that he doesn’t have a photo or a video to commemorate this.

“We should use your room,” Mac lets the thought slip out, grinding his hardening semi into Dennis, slipping his hand down the others body, pleased to find him in the same state.

“You _should_ have used a god damn condom,” he snaps back, irritated but still shivers under Mac’s touch.

“I swear to God if I catch anything-“ he starts but is cut off by Mac’s free hand clamping down over his mouth. He feels his friends breath over his ear, as he leans forward to speak,

“I didn’t hear you complaining before,” he threatens, not wanting Dennis to kill the mood. Dennis is annoyed but too drunk to want to pursue a fight, especially in this position. Instead he compromises, rolling over and swinging a leg clean over Mac’s body, failing to hide the wince of pain that came with stretching his legs too far apart too soon. He watches Mac’s clueless face go from concerned to smug in a small manner of seconds beside him before Dennis feels himself frowning.

“Fuck you,” he murmurs, before leaning forward and pressing their mouths together in a bruising kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Dennis' legs. I mean. Watch the Jersey Shore episode again when him and Dee are on that fairground ride and their legs are side by side; they look almost fucking identical. and the quote in the summary is ripped from "daddyissues_" and is what kick-started this whole thing <3
> 
> EDIT: Orphaned bc it's a frikken mess but I can't fix it (because I'm lazy).


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